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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895583">Juniper and Lamplight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salchat/pseuds/Salchat'>Salchat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargate Atlantis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, First Love, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Loss, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:40:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salchat/pseuds/Salchat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla remembers her first love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Teyla Emmagan/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Juniper and Lamplight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This mini-fic was inspired by the Simon and Garfunkel song, 'For Emily, Whenever I may find her' and my own musings on love and loss.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She recalled a day such as this; a summer's day of long ago. And, in fact, there had been many such days that summer, or so it seemed to Teyla, looking back. That summer of sultry sweetness where he had been her all, her life, the one that brought meaning to her days and passion to her nights as she awoke to full womanhood. They had walked hand-in-hand in the dappled shade of the forest, not counting the time as idly spent, not counting the time at all but for the beat of each other's hearts as they shared slow, lingering glances of delight and let their touch follow their eyes in dawning wonder.</p><p>And at night there had been starlight and lamplight and golden moments by the flickering fire, and everywhere the bittersweet heavy-hanging flowers and sap-rich wood, heated by the day to scent the cooling dusk.</p><p>That long, precious summer, she had sat with him, as she did now, her bare feet rippled in the lulling water. His hand had held hers as they watched the glassy light, the waving fronds of weed, the green-tinged pebbles and the darting flash of silver fish. His laugh had lifted her, where now it was her son's merry cry that made her heart sing for the joy of living. The cool forests and sunny banks, the burbling streams and the salt-sharp shore were Torren's now, to enjoy, to explore; and though they were not those places of her childhood and youth, they were enough for this little, bright, curious mind and agile body.</p><p>But that long-past summer lived in Teyla's memory as a golden time, a mythical time where her soul transcended the cares of life; where, for a while, she had lived freely, without fear, without thought to the light or shade of the future.</p><p>He had been gone by the autumn.</p><p>When the leaves began to fall he, along with others, had been taken, like so many before them, so that the taking was a shock but not a surprise. To reach Halling's age was rare, to reach Charin's even more so. Nobody was surprised by loss, by death; nobody was surprised by the grief that tore great gaping holes in hearts already ravaged by the life that they had to live.</p><p>He had been gone by the autumn; and as the frost fell and the ground hardened to iron, so she had grown cold and hard and her soul had numbed along with her fingertips in the long, dark grey days of ice and pain.</p><p>But as the thaw had come, so Teyla's grief had diminished, and now the memory was distant; now she could treasure it as if within the enfolding cup of her hand, and only a faint tinge of grief shadowed the sunlight and smiles of that time. The sweet kisses and soft murmurs were hers forever, the green glades where they had lain and the high places they had roamed were safe in her deep-secret, protected treasure-cave of memory.</p><p>And, she had to acknowledge, as one who did not flinch from the reality of her dangerous life, that one day perhaps Torren would remember her in this way. One day he would hold her in his hand and heart and mind, deep within, a warm, soft, desperately precious, long-ago memory.</p><p>But for now, he was running to her in the glinting yellow-white heat of this summer's day and she lifted him high and lived as hard as she could in this one shining moment, imprinting her love in her own heart and his, pouring herself into him until he was full and overflowing with her essence, with Mother, with Teyla, as she was now and would always be in his memory no matter what the future held. He glowed in her arms, then broke free and the moment was gone. But there was another moment and another and in each one of them Teyla was here, now, for Torren and for herself. It would have to be enough. It was enough.</p>
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